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Nothing but lush green filled the vision of Roman Santos, who spun to admire the spectacle. Under the shiny leaves, the umber-colored branches of the tree were well-hidden. It was like a sea of emeralds surrounding him, dancing in the air to the tone of the gentle wind which gave them a rhythm. Except that wind was from his own professor's fan. Roman crawled on all fours with his back only an inch from the jagged pine wood. Ever since he drank Dr. Miro's elixir, his entire body had shrunken down to the size of an ant; each leaf had become as big as his entire body. Dr. Miro's words from just an hour earlier still echoed in his head: “It's a true test. Drink this elixir, and you'll shrink so much that my bonsai tree will appear as a giant force of nature.” “So you're promising me that if I find every piece of gold slathered on its leaves, I'll win a million dollars?!” Roman asked as he hunched over his chair next to Dr. Miro's desk. “Yes,” the professor answered. “Remember, Roman. This bonsai tree is special. It's the rarest species in the world - one which can grow gold on its leaves. All you need to do is shrink down, collect the gold, and trade it in for cash.” As his recollection faded, Roman peered down the tree trunk, landing his eyes at the dirt which hosted the roots. Time to start hunting for that gold… he thought. With his sights on the first leaf in front, it didn't take long for him to locate his first piece of treasure. The glossy yellow made it easy to detect, and it appeared more splashed than slathered. Roman worked away at pulling the gold off of the leaf's surface - his fingers clawed at the edges while he heaved at his prize. By the time it finally unstuck itself from the leaf, Roman found his forehead drenched in sweat. “Ugh, this will take a while…” But it wasn't until the third leaf, at the sight of its thin and weak-looking petiole - “Wait, I'm so stupid…” - was when he realized how simple the task assigned to him truly was. With both hands gripping the sides of the leaf which was as wide as his entire torso, Roman twisted the entire blade menacingly. Within seconds, the petiole ruptured, tearing the entire leaf off its branch. “Alright!” One by one, Roman began breaking each leaf off entirely, while dropping them to the ground below between snaps. This is a much easier way to collect the gold! “Ouch,” he muttered, caressing his knee as it caught a bump on the twig he kneeled on. He forgot the tree's branches were snaggy and hardly sittable. I just have to avoid the sharper parts, he thought, and grinned as he continued collecting. To Roman, it simply meant higher risk, higher reward. For a million dollars, nothing was impossible. And so he continued breaking off every leaf from the bonsai tree. By the end of the day, only one thought lingered in his mind: How should I spend my million bucks? Not a single leaf remained on the tree. A smile engulfed his face as Dr. Miro greeted him from the ground below. “Congrats, now please come down.” A red ladder appeared just below his feet, prompting him to finally come down from a long day of treasure hunting. Roman smirked as he reached the ground, observing the pile of leaves he gathered next to the trunk. “You completed the task in a way I expected you to,” Dr. Miro explained. “Nice, now where's my money?” But then it happened. “Wait, what the fuck?!” Roman cried as his feet began sinking into the dirt. Any yank from either leg proved to be useless. “Your time has come to an end,” Dr. Miro explained with a sigh. “What do you mean?!” Roman yelled as the dirt underneath continued swallowing him up like quicksand. “You became greedy, and prioritized your own self-interests over the health of my bonsai tree.” “Screw off! You're the one who told me-” “Yes, that I know. And it's not just your fault, it's our fault.” With one last scream of agony, Roman's head tucked under the enveloping dirt from the ground. Two Days Later João walked into his former professor's lab while a policewoman followed from behind. “Dr. Roman Miros Santos passed away in his lab yesterday due to cerebral hypoxia,” the cop explained. “I recall he was also suffering from a few mental illnesses, and sometimes referred to himself as two different people,” replied João. “But even our president loved him.” “That's ‘cause he was an advocate for the President's Deforestation of the Amazon Rainforest project last year…” “Ah, yes, I remember his ten-year-old bonsai tree was completely dead when I found his body. No leaves, no life,” answered João. “There's a lot of folklore about that bonsai tree species. It's said that Gaia, the Goddess of Nature, created that tree to test the morals of humans. It could grow gold, but the only way to extract it without damaging the tree was to let the leaves fall by themselves. Gaia was testing greed. The tree's bumpy branches represented the uselessness of those who knew, but ignored its pleas for help.”

I. Pebreru 2022 II. San Fernando Train Station Museum III. Yng Tsina ampo pa ing Rusya a Estatua IV. Metiorite V. Yng Sculpture cung Meteorite I. Pebreru 2022 Pebreru 2022, Aganakca que yng metung cung estatua, Dapat cu neng kuanan, Baiu ya pa manga-paroro, Ali sana. Pebreru 2022, Kuanan que king San Fernando Train Station Museum yng canacung estatua, Migluat ya mu ring migdatun karin, Paca-Aircon, Malaut ia king dinat ampopa keng alimum. Pebreru 2022, Aganakca que yng metung cung estatua, War machines lang balamu robot lang miyasawa. Metung a Babai ampopang metung a lalaki, Makasake la keng higanting robot a alakdan, Yng Tsina ampopa in g Rusya ing pamagat na ning canakung estatua. Pebreru 2022, Kuanan cu ne ing king San Fernando Train Station Museum yng canacung estatua, Cailangan cu neng kwanan uning magumpisa ne ing Construction na ning |Philippine National Railways carin. Cailangan cu ne mu ring kwanan ing kanakung obra- Uning midame ya ampopang milaco ya ing Storage Area na ning Museo- Pakalat-kalat ne mu ing ikanakung obra. Makabalandra ya, Sinapak neng alikabuk, Aldo't uranan ya. II. San Fernando Train Station Museum Himpilang Daang-Bakal ng San Fernando, Daang bakal, Mettalic road, Yng English cu, Mamilosipu. Atchu ia Karin ing metung kareng obra maestro cu, kumbaga, Matung caring Major works, Major works a statua cu. III. Yng Tsina ampo pa ing Rusya a statua Manibat angyang mica-Internet keni kekami, Pane cu nong gu-google deng alwang Bansang arena. Kalupa ne ning Pilipinas, Pare-parehu lang atchu keng Asya. Manibat anyang mica-internet keni kekami, Libri-libri cung mamasyal- karening adwang bansang areni. Yng C.G.T.N naning Tsina, R.T. news channel naning Rusya, Mapa queng website da o kareng Youtube channels da, Pane cung manalbe, Pakibaluan cu ing malilyari karela, Deng gawan da ampopang planu da. IV. Metiorite Queng Kapampangan, Taklang Batwin, Istung ilimbag me king lengguahing Tagalog, Filipino- Tae ng Bituin. Queng lengguahing Ingles, Star Shit. Manibat angyang mica-Internet keni kekami, Mangapanusignan cu buri keng pamanuklas, Keng canacung e milalakong Capanigluan. Mapanalbe kung nanu-nanung klasing Batu. Paniglon kula reng miyaliwa-liuang kule, Ampopang aske da, Miras keng punting mangolekta kung Batu. Lalu na reng “Metal Ores”. Batung mika- samut a nanu-nanung kalasing Bakal. Pati Batu-Balani ampopang Taklang Batwin. Pauli na siguru keng eskultur cu, Kaya buri kula murin salat ampopang, Pakibalwan cula tibe. V. Yng Sculpture cung Meteorite Anyang milabasang banua, 2019, Memasyal la ri ima cu- Queng San Fernando Train Station Museum, Edacu kayabe, Ila mu di uali kung babai, Ampopa reng adua ng anac. Kabira, Anyang dintang no quing bale, Eda ku inabisuan man, Dela de kauli- Yng Meteorite cung estatua. Ing sabi ng Ima cu dela ne ing statua cuuning ikit neng maka-kalat nemu keng Museu, Ing pakibat cu pota eman makakalat, Pota atin mung aliwang maka-exhibit, Pakibat ng Ima ku, “ali” Pota pauli ng ning magumpisa nalang magobra reng tiga- PNR carin, Kaya megdisisyun nakung kwanan ke ing estatua kung Tsina ampopang Rusya. - Don Reich de Chiron

I cradled the ticket in my hand as I watched the dust motes dance to the silence of the fading sunshine. The tracks shifted gently somewhere far off down the line in the crumbling remnants of what once was a strict European station. Swallowing my heart, I saw the café nearby housed patrons that came as quickly as they went; but hidden in my memories, a family once sat united. Even if remembering meant knowing what I could not have, I still held to it like a petal on a flower. But with the rustle of wind as a train tore onto the platform, the ticket slipped from my fingers as the memory faded beyond reach. Once again, the hole in my chest etched its way out, and hazy eyes followed the dying scream as the train departed. I fixed my shoelace; tying my life together in a flimsy bow. Finally, I sighed and stood unsheathing my sword, ready to face a world full of people. Me? I walked alone. The café held smells that made my nose twitch and being jump in excitement. The dessert display contained a wild array of textures – the shattering, airy crunch of meringue, and the softer ones of glazed jams and gleaming chocolates. Pastries with rolling bubbles and cooling air pockets steamed, causing a tsunami of desire to churn within my mouth. My hand reached for the lightweight (but not brittle) treats before my brain could catch up and shout furious instructions that lead me to a table isolated far off in the back. Not even the sun dared to shine as I sat in personal punishment, waiting for another train to arrive. The pennies clumsily scattered on the table were barely enough for a new ticket. I couldn't afford to eat. It felt as if rough hands had grabbed me and forced me back into a casket. Without a word, the lid slammed silencing my last hope, and my rumbling stomach served as a dying protest. Every shaky breath bought me one more moment, and the longer I fought, the less appealing the chocolate drizzled delicacies appealed. Even then, I held my breath to stifle the temptations caging me in. My lungs strained against the thin air; however, the tight darkness choked me as it seeped into my chest. The only option was to gasp like a dying man. It burned and thumped through my veins in a complete reversal of how breathing is supposed to work. Glassy eyes searched for a lifeboat to cling to, but nobody was coming. The waitress bustled, preparing a coffee for a woman in clothes too smart to be riding a train. A man sat hunched over a paper and pen, resembling a tart engorged with custard. And a boy just like me with dreary features, and a worn-down attitude slouched at a table picking at the ghost of his meal. The minute hand of a clock ticked its way full circle, and even with the continuous reminder of the fluidity of time, the world no longer spun. Like tremors, it began as a twitch in my nose, and soon the horrible monstrosity of nature was upon us. A sneeze so grand the table's napkins swirled into a hurricane, but still, not a soul turned. I blessed myself, but the room swallowed the noise, and I realised then that I hadn't heard my voice since the last blue moon. Instead, the café's radio murmured like T.V static. A blaze of light animated the brick that connected me to an alternate reality, and as if it could tell that cotton clogged my throat, it alerted me of a notification. The phone was a false hope, for no wires trailed from the base that led to the outside world. Once again, my shoulders caved in like a sandcastle overrun by waves. I was an addict for human contact, needing the sweet morphine to quell the craze pinching my brain. It hurt as if nails were trying to claw me apart. Exiting the store in a flicker of a moment, I stood by the tracks and gazed down the line. My pennies were replaced by the purchase of a new ticket, but this one was strangled between fingers, trapping buried memories within the crinkles. In my ears, a million tiny whispers echoed like a heartbeat, but home was an ocean away and as old as stone. I was close –a few beats off– but like muscle memory, I still knew my way back. The incoming train creaked and cringed in a sweltering welcome, and with stilted steps, I clambered aboard. A crooked man resembling a screw stamped my ticket, and my head fell back like a weighted anchor. The damp scent of mildew and rotting fabric swamped the atmosphere in a thick blanket, but just knowing that I was returning to a place that blazed brightly with laughter diluted the stench. I surrendered to the massive hulk of horsepower; to the chains and rigs that ran on the energy of a single piece of coal. No matter how often the cables would break, or the gears ceased, the machine learned to function, just as people learned to move on; learned to get by with every chip and mark. It's not quite right. There are broken pieces, missing pieces, and sharp edges that still draw blood. It's strange, unique, and filled with tragedy; but, it's the belief that the machine still functions despite itself.